What Can You Do?
by sweetdonalbain81507
Summary: The thoughts of Nittle Grasper about their reunion. Warning: a bit rambly, but let's face it, they're all insane in Gravitation.
1. Noriko: Why?

**Disclaimer: ...do I really have to put this? I don't own Gravitation.**

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Clear the runway, make another pass  
Try one more approach  
Before you're out of gas

Friends are getting fatter  
Hairs on your head are getting thinner  
Feel like a clean up batter  
On a team that ain't a winner

Don't freak out, don't strike out  
Can't fight it, like city halls  
At least you're not alone  
Your friends are there, too

-Jonathan Larson's "tick, tick...BOOM!"

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Really, there had been a reason that Nittle Grasper chose to have a reunion right then.

Yes, they had missed each other. Yes, they had gotten over all the fights that had broken them up in the first place...or at least, had gotten to the point for they could ignore the little tensions that remained. Yes, they had missed performing. But none of those were the real reason. Well, none of those were the real reason for the timing. In all actuality, Noriko at least would have wanted a bit more time. Just a few more years, just enough to bury all the hatchets that she still had against her boys and remember how amazing every second (well, most seconds before the incident, a few seconds after it) had been. Why, then, had she agreed to rejoin the band?

It was simple: she did not know that she would get another chance.

Of course, in the 21st century, age almost did not matter, 60 was the new 40, 90 year olds were getting married, having children (um...okay, she did not have to hear that), and living life just the same as anyone else, and all of that other crap that she had heard, but she knew that she had to face the facts: she, Ryuichi, and Tohma were _old._ (Well, the boys were old. She was still in her twenties, thank you very much. Her body would attest to that. She was just way too sexy to be mistaken for a thirty-something, unlike the boys. Of course, she had always been the attractive one, but..._stop it, Nori-chan! _she scolded herself. _That's all very true, but the band! Remember the band!)_ They were still talented, and they all looked about sixteen, but the truth was that they were _old_. They got their first record deal when she was nineteen. Nineteen. As in, twenty-eight minus nine. As in, nine years ago. As in, almost a third of her lifetime ago. As in, long before she got married. As in, long before her gorgeous, perfect, amazing little girl was born. As in...did she really have to go on?

Here was a clarification of one point: they were all _good._ Tohma was a genius when it came to original compositions and arrangements (and business agreements, when it came down to it, but that was another story); Ryuichi had to have vocal cords of steel or something of the like, and those lyrics were incredible, and she...well, she was piko piko Noriko-chan! What more qualifications did she need? But anyway, they were all talented. Nittle Grasper had changed the shape of music forever. But she had always had a sinking suspicion that their popularity was based more off of her short skirts and how Ryu looked in leather pants than any musical ability. No, that was not fair at all. She was sure that many, even the majority, of their fans actually appreciated the music. However, did she think that the fact that when she bowed after a concert, it was not exactly difficult to see down her shirt was a disadvantage? Not at all.

So that was the root of the problem. Nittle Grasper was getting older. Ryuichi would still have screaming fangirls going home with wet panties, but for how long? People would still imagine that she and Ryuichi, or that she and Tohma, or that Ryuichi and Tohma, or hell, that all three of them were in a...more than friendly relationship (even though two of the three were married. Oh well; she had always had the feeling actually, the knowledge that her best friend, however much she loved him, was not quite everything that a husband was supposed to be to Mika-san. Rather, she always knew that he did not feel what a husband was supposed to feel for his wife; no one could dispute the fact that he was a model husband in his actions...or that she was getting off-topic again bad Noriko! Bad!), but how much interest would all of the never-ending fanzines get? And worse, just when would those never-ending fanzines...end?

None of this was to say that she did not think they would be successful. She knew that they would be. She knew that all of the fans would be excited by their reunion, and that they would still be producing hit singles, and still be able to kill old standards. Hell, she was not stupid, not by any means: she knew why Tohma wanted a reunion. Correction: she knew why Seguchi-san, president of NG Studios, wanted a reunion. NG had been doing...surprisingly badly in recent years. There just seemed to be a very disturbing lack of originality these days. When Nittle Grasper blazed onto the scene all that time ago (_nine years_), they were _new._ They were _different._ They were _exciting_, and _refreshing._ They were the Yellow Magic Orchestra for the 90's. In the past few years, the only new things that came by were...less talented Nittle Grasper imitators (hello, Bad Luck. She ought to know. The music she played for them? Strange; it had a marked similarity to other music she had played in her life). Seguchi-san, the business man, had recognized this decreased supply of talent and increased demand for music, and decided to fill that need with a previously established marketable product. Tohma-san, the keyboardist, had missed performing. Tohma-kun, the best friend a girl or a...Ryuichi (how else could you describe him?) could ask for (well...maybe not quite _the_ best friend. He was a bit stiff sometimes. Okay, he was a bit stiff _most_ of the time), had missed his friends. So what Seguchi Tohma do but arrange a reunion?

As for Ryuichi...Sakuma-san's solo career was not as profitable as he could wish it to be. Ryuichi-san missed the fame and recognition he once had. Ryu-chan missed Tohma-Tohma and Nori-chan. What could he do but accept?

As for herself...why had she agreed? As a career woman, she was happy. She made a decent amount of money, and of course, Tetsuya made a ridiculous amount (she had always heard that teachers got lousy salaries. His salary...almost put hers back in the old days to shame. Not quite. But almost). As a musician, she was satisfied. She had loved music all her life, and although being a studio keyboardist was not exactly like being a member of the hottest band in Japan, it was fulfilling. As a person, she missed her boys desperately, but she did not want to get back together with them, not yet at least. Anyway, she had Tetsuya and Saki in the meantime. She could have gone on. So why had she agreed? Sure, she might never get to reform the band if she refused the chance, but would that be so bad? She knew that she would not get replaced; Nittle Grasper was Seguchi Tohma, Sakuma Ryuichi, and Tanaka, later Ukai, Noriko. Period. End of story. Not "...Ryuichi and/or Tanaka..." She was an integral part of the band.

She knew why she agreed. She knew all along.

Nittle Grasper was the best thing that had ever happened to her. She registered it as being odd, and probably not in a good way, that she ranked her time with her husband below her time with two other boys, but the band was more important. The thought of going back...it was intoxicating.

Of course, she should have known better. There is no going back, only forward. In the beginning, they had been twenty-somethings (well, she had been a teenager, but same thing) playing to twenty-somethings and teenagers. They had been rebellious; Tohma was supposed to be a businessman; she was supposed to be a perfect, traditional Japanese wife for some rich old man, and Ryuichi...was supposed to do _something_, no doubt. Parents had not been exactly sure that they approved. Some parents were sure that they did not approve.

Nowadays, they were the middle aged (okay, exaggeration. The more than quarter aged) generation, playing for thirty-somethings. They were "the way they did it back in the old days". They were retro. They were respectable. Sure, they had some younger fans (example: Tohma's creepy brother-in-law), but the vintage Graspers were those disapproving parents now.

Still...she had some consolation. The boys were in the same position. And she knew they felt the same way.

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**A/N: Odd little idea I had while angsting about the fact that I won't get to go to the Broadway's Greatest Showstoppers concert and was consoling myself by listening to all of the Raúl Esparza that I had, including tick, tick...BOOM! I'm probably going to do two more, one for Ryuichi and one for Tohma, with the next two parts of 30/90. I don't know if anyone's reading this, but if you are, please review. Thank you.**


	2. Ryuichi: Tarnished

They're singing "Happy Birthday"  
You just wish you could run away  
It feels much more like Doomsday  
But 30/90, seems

Like I'm in for a twister  
I don't see a rainbow, do you?  
Turn 30 1990, boom, you're passé  
What can you do?

-Jonathan Larson's "tick, tick...BOOM!"

Sometimes, he really hated himself.

No, that was not true. Definitely not (well, maybe not "definitely not", but not). Not exactly, he could say. He did not hate himself, the person. At least, he did not hate himself much. The one that he really hated (well, that he really hated sometimes) was the "genius Sakuma". The god. The idol. The instant sensation. The...did he really have to go on?

Of course, he did not hate his stage alter ego (he had several) all of the time. Not even most of the time, in fact. Most of the time he liked his stage self. He had heard that he was not supposed to enjoy fame, that fame was supposed to be the bane of every artist, that fame was the worst thing possible. Himself, he thought that that idea was stupid (or maybe he had just never quite been an artist. There was that option too). He loved fame, most of the time. He loved walking down the street and having people recognize him (oh, was he supposed to be disguised? Oops). He loved hearing everybody talk about random details of his personal life on national television, even if it was sometimes (fine, most times) creepy. He loved singing to packed concert halls, to screaming fans (he was never quite sure why he was singing when they were screaming, but whatever). He had the feeling that he was supposed to love touching people's lives, but...maybe that was another "artist" thing. He could not tell.

But even though he mostly liked his stage self, he hated him as well (much like everything else in his world). He loved it when he was asked what convenience store he preferred (7/11, as it happened), but hated it when he was asked where he got his inspiration, or how he strengthened his vocal cords, or anything to do with singing, really. He hated people assuming that there was a hidden meaning to advance his art in every move he made. And damn it, he hated the word "art"!

How could no one see (actually, he knew how)? Singing was not his art. He had never dreamed of being a singer, or even a musician. Singing was just what he did. He loved it, but he also loved kumquats. It was something that he enjoyed to do, and enjoyed doing well, but it was not his passion, per se. It was his hobby, sort of. "Hobby" was not quite the right word (that was another thing he hated, people presuming that he was brilliant with words. Or brilliant at all, for that matter), but he could not think of a better. The only word that he could think of that completely explained it was "kumquat". And of course, singing could not be his kumquat. That was stupid. That was childish. That was...depressing. Because that was something that his most common alter ego would say.

His most common alter ego was the child one. The one that his friends saw. The one who colored, who giggled, who pouted and whined and threw tantrums when he did not get his way. The one that he probably hated most of his alter egos.

He was just so feel-good and naïve. Everything was happy, sappy, and shiny shiny with him. He was the kind of person that everyone wanted their child to be like. He was the one to whom everyone went when they were depressed (leaving no one for him to go to when he was depressed). And he was about as different from the bitter, sarcastic bastard that he really was (or at least, that he thought that he really was) as it was possible to get.

But that...did not matter anymore, did it? His personal feelings had no place in the music industry, did they? He had his aura, and he would keep it. If he did not like the man (boy) he had become, well, that was just his problem.

That had been the way of things for a long time now (nine years. Since the moment he released that first album), but it had never mattered to him quite as much before. It had bothered him, yes (why do you think he kept arguing with the others? Or wanted a solo career in New York, where maybe no one had ever heard of him? He knew that he would miss the fame, but maybe he could change), but never to this extent. He had no idea why his utter...fakeness (great, he was making up words now) got to him now more than ever (that is a complete and total lie. He knew very well why).

Okay, fine: he knew why. Back then, it had been a (relatively) small price to pay. He had been on top of the world, in every way. All of Japan was at his feet; he had the greatest friends he could want (again, complete and total lie, but he did _like_ them well enough and they _tried,_ after all), and overall, he was happy (or the closest thing thereto). If he hated himself inside...well, it was a necessary sacrifice. Now, though...he was not quite a god anymore. Yes, he was close, but not quite there. He had been replaced (not exactly. He had been...removed). He was no longer the lead singer of the hottest band around; he was the lead singer of (a group of old has-beens) an old band having a reunion.

But he had gained wisdom, experience. He knew the ins and outs of the business. He knew (bullshit. He was still as lost as before)...no, that is not true (or is it?)! It absolutely is not! He was not naïve anymore (was he ever?). Yes, he was. He had thought...that he could find people who understood. No, he thought that he _had_ found people who understood. People he would not have to hide from (as if that could ever be true). He was always hiding. Usually, in fact, he was hiding within a hiding place. He was hiding under a desk, or behind a bed, and using that persona to hide himself, not his body, but himself (ooh, that was poetic. No, that was pathetic).

He had to face it sometime. He was over, done with. Every aspect. His music was over with; there were new bands now (well, new. New imitators, maybe). His friendships (did he ever have any?) were over. He was finished.

He had lied, actually (well, not really, but something that he had implied was incorrect). His childish alter ego? It was not completely false. Kumagoro...the voice inside his head...it existed. So it was not quite as happy as it seemed. What about him was untarnished?

**A/N: Well, that was odd. It didn't quite turn out the way I wanted it to...but I guess Ryuichi's brain is a dangerous, unpredictable place. That was actually kind of fun, if angsty. Alright, I know that I'm talking to myself now (there has been a grand total of 19 hits in a little over a week), but please review, if you read (which you probably didn't. Okay, **_**you**_** read; otherwise you wouldn't know what I was saying, but you in the general sense of the word probably didn't). I guess Tohma's is coming next.**


	3. Tohma: Imperceptible

**A/N: Okay, so I don't usually put these at the beginning, but I just want to address this one problem: a startling number of people have favorited this story/put it on alert and not reviewed (well, obviously they didn't review; I have no reviews). I just find that so completely rude. I mean, if you liked it enough to put it on alert, you ought to have liked it enough to just drop a short line. You're logged in and pressing the purply blue button anyway; it would just be polite to leave a short review, just so I know that someone's reading. Thanks for bearing with my rant.**

Peter Pan and Tinkerbell  
Which way to Never-Neverland?  
Emerald City's gone to hell  
Since the wizard blew off his command

In the streets you hear the voices  
Lost Children, crocodiles  
But you're not into

Making choices  
Wicked witches  
Poppy fields and men behind the curtain  
Tiger Lilies, ruby slippers  
Clock is ticking, that's for certain!

-Jonathan Larson's "tick, tick...BOOM!"

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He knew from the start that it would be different this time.

He had not really wanted it to be the same, in all honesty, but he knew that it could not be the same, whatever he wanted. They were different, all of them.

Noriko was softer, more sentimental. She still had her fire, her bite, but it was blunted now. Maybe it was being a mother, maybe it was the time away from the band, Tohma honestly did not know, but it was true. She was just...less.

Ryuichi was even less happy. He had always been much more dangerous, much more desperate than he seemed, Tohma had always known, but he was more now. Before, Ryu had thought that no one noticed his shadows, now...he could not honestly think that. He could not possibly imagine that...or maybe he could.

Because they were _little_ changes, almost imperceptible. A little tightness here, a laugh that would not have been a few years ago there...if he had not known his bandmates so well, he probably would not have picked up on them. They were like one person; they knew everything about each other...no, that was not true. That was how _he_ had changed.

Once upon a time (_nine years ago!_), Seguchi Tohma had been another aspiring musician, along with the two most important people in the world to him. At _that_ point, they were like one person and knew everything about each other. However, he had changed, had started changing, in fact, before Nittle Grasper had broken up. That, he thought, was what had really led up to the...incident that broke them up. He had become distant again.

Long before that time (repeat, _nine years ago!_) when they got their first record deal, when he did not even know Noriko and Ryuichi, he had been so cool, so untouchable. He had never been particularly unpleasant, but he was shy and bland. Then he met Noriko...was it even possible to be _quiet_ or _boring_ in her presence? She was just so..._exuberant_. He had changed then, surprisingly quickly, but then he started looking back, a little bit after New York. He became a bit more closed off, a bit more silent, and his walls had just kept flying up, faster and faster, getting even faster in the three years since the break up...now he was a virtual fortress. He had tried to take down his walls for them, but that had not worked so well.

He knew why that was. He had built on a hill. That poor, aspiring musician...that man, no, boy was about as far away from Seguchi-san, president of NG Studios as it was possible to get. The new Tohma was not nearly as far removed from his new bandmates, but he was still above them. He was in charge. He could drop them, if he wanted to, and no matter how much they tried to pretend that that made no difference, they all knew that it did.

And no matter how much they tried to pretend that their personal differences had no effect on the music, they all knew that that just was not the way that it was. Noriko did not exactly lack focus, but music was not the most important thing in her world anymore, and that was perceptible, _well,_ Tohma mused, _probably imperceptible to most people, _in her playing. Ryuichi's growing insanity made his singing darker than ever before, almost frightening, _although,_ he thought sadly, _what is really frightening is Ryuichi himself, what his darkness has turned him into._ As for him...he had just looked completely clinically on his two best friends, _if,_ he supposed, _he could still call them that._ He had become cold again, cold and distant. He had lost his passion, his spark. He was still technically wonderful, but he was not longer the best.

His mind flashed back to that time, nine years (_nine years!_) ago, when they were just starting out, again. In actuality, they had not been amazing, not as much as they were now. They were attractive; they were different; they were fairly good, so they quickly became popular. They would have fizzled out if they had not capitalized on that first wave of success, not come out with new material, better material. Now they were good, really _good_, but they would never be as popular, _or at least,_ Tohma thought wryly, _we shouldn't be_. They had lost something, they had gained something..._right_.

He was lying to himself, he knew that. Frankly, most fans were pretty...not musically inclined (stupid). They probably, no, almost certainly did not notice the change in them, not really. They heard the same sort of sound and assumed that they were "geniuses" (probably about two of them knew the word "genii") because they had longevity. The slightly worse sound of their music had absolutely no effect. They were less popular, if only a little, because they were older and, truthfully, less likeable. They had been young, attractive, and absolutely adorable, according to all of the magazines. Now...they, and especially he, were less sweet and innocent and pure. He had a reputation and he knew it: he was cutthroat and a bit ruthless. He was not at all a bubbly, enthusiastic boy in his early twenties. He even looked worse: shallowly, he looked about 16, but he had a frozen, constantly calm look that ruined it, one he had never had before.

All of them were more adult now, and it worsened their product; and Tohma-kun had become Seguchi-san, who used words like "product" when referring to bands, to Noriko and Ryuichi.

He sighed. What can you do?

**THE END**

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**A/N: Well...that did not turn out at all like I wanted. This is definitely my least favorite, which is a shame because I love Tohma (he's probably my favorite character) and wish that he had more fan love. Please review, if you read. Bye!**

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